


Manager's Special (alternate title: You Can Do What With Your Fingers)

by BSplendens



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: (also Overloads As Fuel), Cuddling, Deepthroating, Fluff, Living Battery Hits On Local Bartender, Local Bartender Bad At Sexy Talk, Oral Sex, Sex Fluids As Fuel, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Swerve Needs Attention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22828315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BSplendens/pseuds/BSplendens
Summary: Swerve normally doesn't take sexual favors in return for drinks. That gets creepy, thanks.He may have to change that policy in cases where he IS the drinks, though. And also start looking up which drink additives are safe to apply to, ahem, certain areas.(Swerve + a bot who's very good with their tongue = fun times for all.)
Relationships: Swerve/OC
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	Manager's Special (alternate title: You Can Do What With Your Fingers)

**Author's Note:**

> Volt is an OC of mine who can absorb energy and store it for later. When they don't have ideal opportunities, they can sap the energy out of wires and batteries for their frame to convert into something they can use.  
> When offered the chance, they much prefer to absorb energy from other, willing mechs. It's easier to convert. It also means they get the fluids involved (which are, after all, an energon by-product), and often a nice dose of nanites to use as trace materials. And it nets them some positive attention. Oral for anyone who's interested and won't be mean about it is an excellent way to make friends. 
> 
> They aren't starving in this fic, they aren't even particularly hungry- they just want a snack, and think Swerve seems like he would be fun to get that snack from. They've always been less "this is how I survive" and more "this is how I stay optimally topped up and make friends". Normally they ask with one of several little engraved cards explaining the gist of things, since they can't speak, but they found a more direct approach here.

Why did he leave all of the tall-people tasks to after it was so late at night (or early in the morning) that nobody was around to help? Swerve, balancing precariously on the top step of a stepladder (don’t tell Magnus) and still not able to reach the shorted-out lightbulb, wobbled a bit and strongly considered the advisability of trying to get things done now. Maybe he’d wait until it was busier and someone tall could do this. Except, ugh, then he’d be too busy to get anything done.

There was an odd, somehow inquiring staticky noise from behind him, and Swerve yelped, overbalancing- and yelped again when he was abruptly enfolded in too-long arms. “ _Frag,_ oh Primus what did someone let in this time, oh frag let me go-“ somehow managing to almost knee himself in the face as he struggled “-no seriously I’ll tell Magnus about this, he- he doesn’t like messes, he won’t like it if you kill me! Oh Pit I’m gonna get eaten-“

The thing that had caught Swerve did not kill him. It made an irritated noise, lowered him to near the ground, and dropped him slightly. Less than if he’d fallen off the ladder, though. Which left him sprawling on the ground, looking up at- oh. He knew what that was.

Muttering something about “oh frag, sorry, I’m an idiot,” he pried himself up off the floor, trying not to stare too hard at the bot ( _bot,_ not some nightmare crawled onto the ship somehow) who had. Saved him from falling. And who he’d promptly elbowed in the face in thanks.

He didn’t remember their name, but he’d seen this bot before. Hard to forget. The deep black of their plating could have been attractive, especially laced through with conductive gold as it was, but the rest of them… threw that off a little. Too much arm, for one thing. Too long. No visible optics, just a visor-band shining across their face. There was a light in it, but barely- they had a visor instead of, not over, their optics. No expression in it, or in the rest of their face, or in the strange prong-like antennae that arced up on either side of their helm. And he’d seen before- their back was a _mess,_ dozens of small pieces of plating interlocking in strange patterns, shifting and rippling oddly as they moved. He could have sworn he’d seen some of it lift until it was sticking almost straight out. They kept their field close, but it had _buzzed_ when he’d been close enough to feel it, which wasn’t how a person’s EM was supposed to f-

Aaaand he was staring. Swerve bolted to his pedes, somehow didn’t drop the lightbulb, and tried to pretend he hadn’t been doing that. “Hey! Thanks, I guess. Sorry I thought you were something someone let in. Hey, can you- here,” he blurted, shoving the lightbulb at them, “you swap that out and I’ll get you a House Special in return. I’m too short for my own good, hah.”

The bot whose name he really needed to try to remember looked down at the lightbulb, held carefully in- _oh_ something wasn’t right with their servos, but Swerve deliberately did not stare to figure it out, they weren’t dropping the bulb so it was _fine_. Then they looked back at him, and… chirped? That was probably a chirp, strangely electrical, no words, and their _fangs_ were _gold_. Who did that?

Either they somehow didn’t notice the staring, or they were used to it, because they nodded once and turned away. Gave Swerve a very good view of whatever the slag was going on with their back, which cleared nothing up. Small, interlocking parts, looking vaguely like components of _something,_ that definitely twitched in more than one spot as they contemplated the ladder.

Okay.

“Stop staring, it’s not your business, it’s fine, make them their drink and shut up and remember their name,” he muttered to himself, as usual, and went back to hide behind his bar and find the ingredients. And, after a moment of thought, something else. They’d been introduced to the crew, earlier- _Volt!_ That was their name. _Volt,_ and _Volt_ did not have a vocalizer. But Swerve had been working on adaptive tech, and had something to do about that.

By the time Swerve had finished the drink, _Volt_ had the bulbs swapped. They were holding the base of the old one between their fingertips as they wandered over, staring at it- and it was _flickering,_ like it had been before. Like it was still screwed in. Lifting it to their face, they stared closely at it as if squinting, seemingly investigating what was wrong inside, then popped a satisfied noise and held the bulb out.

“How are you _doing_ that,” Swerve muttered, leaning over the bar to stare at it, and twitched a little when it flickered again. A glance at their servo confirmed that- okay, he still wasn’t sure what was up with their fingers, but their fingertips were also gold. “Huh, are you just” he’d reached out before he could stop himself, servo hovering near theirs, and jerked it back- partly from realizing what he’d done, and partly because they twitched their servo and a visible arc of static hopped into him. “- _oh_ frag, okay, you’re real conductive, got it. Don’t, uh, don’t do that with this, you’ll blow us all up,” and he handed the drink over with a nervous chuckle. He was fairly sure too much static in the drink would do _something_ explosive.

Fortunately, Volt could apparently control it well enough. They put the bulb down and took the drink, buzzing appreciatively as they lifted it to sip at. The House Special came with an edible straw, and _that,_ they seemed to like, if the way they were sucking at it was any indication of-

_Oh_ frag Swerve was a pervert, he decided, whipping his helm away rather abruptly to grab something else. A stack of little cards, with words or phrases relevant to his bar on them. “Hey, uh, since you’ve got the vocalizer issues or- or whatever that is, and I’ve got these for people with vocalizer issues, try these on for size,” he managed, very deliberately not looking at Volt more than was necessary to hand them the cards. Little metal things- easy to un-bend when they inevitably got damaged. Good for people who couldn’t speak, spoke a language he didn’t understand, or just didn’t feel like talking.

“Hey, since- since I had those made, think that counts as me talking for the both of us? I sure talk enough for it,” he tried, defaulting back to self-depreciation (don’t tell Rung) for something to say, not sure why he was trying to make conversation with a bot who spoke entirely in noises like a broken musical instrument. It wasn’t as if they could say anything back. But he kept talking! Because of course he did! “You seen the medics about that? I’m sure they could fix something, or give you something else to use, put a vocalizer in _somewhere_ or something, rig whatever that- that is a screen on your face, right? They could probably rig that to show words or someth-“ and he cut himself off with an abrupt little noise, having looked back at their face again and gotten a look at- _oh_ that should be _illegal_ to do with one’s glossa in public.

It was only when Volt snapped an entertained-sounding noise that he realized he’d probably said that out loud. “Uuuh, yeah, okay, honestly, that’s fine by me, you can do whatever, it’s probably not _actually_ illegal and Mags isn’t here to tell anyone anyway, you just, uh, enjoy that and let me know if you want another drink, I’m gonna- got things to clean back here.”

He did _not_ have things to clean back here, but hid in the back regardless, before he could say anything else. Well. Anything else in their hearing. “Stupid, stupid, stupid, they’re going to think you’re a pervert and nobody’s going to want to talk to you _ever,_ oh frag I _am_ a pervert,” he groaned, and planted his face in his servos, processor determinedly full of-

Their glossa was black, too, and had a streak of gold down it. Gold was _conductive_. At that rate, maybe they had gold inside their cheeks, too, and Swerve’s processor cheerily provided him with several different ideas about what that could feel like. Oh, that- that might be like someone’s _valve_ after it’d been overloaded in already, all conductive and nice and _frag_ he was a _creep-_

Swerve jumped at another, louder staticky noise, but, fortunately, Volt had _not_ followed him back. Just calling him from the bar. And he may have been a disgusting letch, but he wasn’t about to ignore a customer. So Swerve choked all his fans back down, pasted a cheery smile on his face, and went back out to hopefully not say anything further. “Hi! You need something?”

Volt had, mercifully, finished their drink. Also eaten the straw, and thus removed their ability to _do things_ to his libido. At least, quite that easily. They were holding one of the cards delicately between their servos, showing it (“another”), and leaning over the counter a little bit to get a look at him. As soon as he got closer, they smiled, flickered half of their screen bright-dim in what looked an awful lot like a wink, did something with their servos that flickered static across the card-

And tossed the card at Swerve. Specifically, at his codpiece.

It stuck.

Apparently it was magnetized now.

Swerve, for once in the past decade or so, was speechless.

After a moment, of course, his voice was back. As usual, babbling. “What. Uh- no, no, I don’t- yeah, I’ll get you another one, but if you don’t have money we can figure out a trade or something, and not for _that,_ I-I don’t do the- don’t do interface for drinks, not with strangers, easy way to accidentally take advantage of someone who’s just desperate to get drunk, I-I don’t- seriously, you don’t have to, we can figure someth-“ and he only stopped when Volt bounced another card (the “no” one, why had he made that, someone could just shake their helm, wait no that was bad when you were really drunk) off his helm.

Volt leaned further over the bar, tilting their helm to size him up in an extremely visible way. Tapped the empty glass next to them. Shook their helm. Pushed it aside.

And pointed, firmly, to Swerve.

At Swerve’s crotch.

At the “another” on the card there, in a cheerful font.

Licking their lips and showing those gleaming gold fangs.

Okay! That was a relief! Sometimes people got desperate enough to do anything they thought would get them enough engex to forget, that was no good, Swerve didn’t play with that, he’d _much_ rather find out that someone wanted to-

-oh.

Swerve froze for a moment, optics rather wide behind his visor, and stared down at his crotch. That was definitely the “another” card.

Okay. Right. That. That was different, and, uh-

His fans betrayed him by kicking on, but he stifled them as well as he could, clamping his plating down. “You, uh. You want to drink _me_ ,” he managed, staring up at Volt, trying not to focus on the conductive gold around their lips. “As in. Just- just to be clear, the placement of this card is _not_ a coincidence, and you _don’t_ mean my energon. You want to-“

Volt and their flexible frame were now crawling over his bar, gaze locked on him, somewhere between slinking and slithering, and Swerve backpedaled slightly. “You, uh, you want to- no you don’t, seriously, I talk _the whole time_ , you’ve heard me, it’s nothing but _this_ while you’re tryin’ to clang me, I’m- I’m flattered but it’s not gonna be any fun for you, oh, is _this_ what you’ve been saying to people that are making them leave my bar so fast with you? Are- are you just picking people up to- mech, they’re not going to starve you, if you need m-more energy all you gotta do is- woah-“

Volt slithered the rest of the way over the bar and crouched in front of Swerve instead, and Swerve could not bring himself to pull away from the attention. Even if some little part of him that had flared at the idea that someone might be interested in _him,_ flickered back down when he registered that he was far from the first bot Volt had- okay, he- he should ask someone about this.

Hopefully someone in the medbay was awake, he decided, COMMing them as fast as possible. Without identifiers. Except his own big mouth. _.:Hi, uh, hello, anyone awake to, uh- Volt’s not starving or anything, right? They’re- they’re not- oh frag:._ there were nimble servos stroking inquiringly at his arms, Volt looming over him and _crooning,_ and it was terribly hard to focus. Well then! He was definitely pathetic, if all it took was someone petting his arms to make him want to fragging melt.

Thankfully, someone in the medbay was awake. Of course. Thank Primus and everyone’s messed-up sleep cycles. _.:No, they’re fine. They just like the energy and the fluids from oral. They want a snack, is all. You can accept if you like, they’re:._ a brief and slightly suspicious pause _.:interesting, and they’re not going to hurt you.:._

Swerve managed to gasp out a _.:thanks:._ before he completely lost his grip on things, and got a grip on something else- Volt’s forearms, to stop them petting him. “Hey. Hey, okay, look, if- if you’re sure you want a piece of me, I-I guess I can mute myself or something, but _not here,_ not here, I don’t know if anyone’s gonna walk in and I’d rather they not hear me getting- look, just- just back here,” he managed, and disengaged from the gangly bot to escape back to his quarters. He wasn’t supposed to live back here, but (don’t tell Magnus) he’d preferred a room behind the bar. A room that did _not_ have an extra berth as a glaring reminder that no one wanted to put up with him long enough to room with him.

It was perpetually untidy, all his cleaning efforts went into the bar, but he was across the room and sitting on his berth before he could get too self-conscious. Made an attempt at a sexy pose, even. “Okay, uh, how- how do you want me, it’s up to you, spike or valve or you can fill up my aft port with engex and _frag_ that’s weird, sorry, I-I don’t- boy you’re tall,” he managed, staring up at- well, there was a reason the mech had been able to change that one stupid lightbulb so easily for him.

Volt was… a lot taller than him. Looming over him, actually, until they crouched- _between his legs,_ Primus, they definitely meant it, and pushed his knees further apart. Leaned in. Nuzzled their cheek against his thigh. Licked their lips again. And _nipped_ at his panel.

Swerve’s spike popped free as soon as his panel was open, which would have been embarrassing had Volt not responded by _crooning_ at him. Crooning and licking up the (short) length of his spike, then-

_“Oh holy fragging Primus,”_ Swerve wheezed, helm falling back against the berth, and managed to prop himself up just enough to confirm- yep, those pretty gold-traced lips were now wrapped around the base of his spike. And, okay, he was a minibot with a minibot spike, short and stubby and not particularly impressive, but it was kind of thick and Volt had still just taken the whole thing at once.

The back of their throat flexed around the head of his spike, and Swerve warbled a thoroughly embarrassing noise, bucking his hips up a little. “Frag, frag, frag, sorry, you- you can hold me down if you want, gonna squirm, holy slag you can nail me to the _floor_ if you keep doing that, frag- holy slag, I was trying not to be a perv a-and think ab-bout it but I saw the _gold_ and- _oh_ frag,” he squeaked, one servo buried in his blankets, one servo finding the back of their helm for a moment. Until he remembered himself, sputtered an apology somewhere in the babbling, and stuffed two fingers into his mouth to shut himself up.

Volt did not appreciate that, apparently. There _was_ gold lining the insides of their cheeks, in lines that nearly _burned_ with charge when they buzzed an annoyed noise up at him. As they reached up and swatted at his arm with one servo until he stopped muting himself.

Evidently satisfied with the babbling, they leaned in closer, hooked one of his legs over their shoulder, leaned their weight against the other, and gripped his hips in both servos. Pinning him to the berth, no room to move, as they-

Well. Thoroughly had their way with his spike. Bobbed their helm in slow, rocking motions, glossa playing gently along the underside, occasionally bringing their dentae into oh-so-careful use. Their facial screen brightened as they _crooned_ up at him, then dimmed to nothing in a relaxed manner, and that odd field of theirs purred low, vibrating contentment.

“-frag, you actually like this, _oh_ that’s cute, oh frag that’s so good,” Swerve groaned, and, instead of stuffing his servo in his mouth again, set it on their helm. Wrapped it around one of those odd antennae for a moment, until they twitched it away from him, then set it on their helm instead and began to stroke. He had to do _something_ to- to return the- “fraaag you’re cute, oh, that feels _so good_ , mech, t-that’s _awesome,_ ” Primus he was bad at dirty talk, “oh that feels like someone’s _valve_ \- except valves don’t have glossas, frag, n-never had a bot’s valve- _oh!”_

Volt did _something_ to the head of his spike that was just this side of pleasurable, something involving a set of fangs that were _way_ more conductive than they had any right to be, and Swerve made a terribly embarrassing noise as his charge shot up higher.

Something a little less sexy and a little more _worrying_ got his attention, though.

Volt’s back was unfolding. All those little plates arranged themselves and lifted up and out, expanding into a set of what looked like a cross between manipulator limbs and oversized antennae, fanning out like a bizarre, thin-petaled flower or the rays in a fish’s fins. Some of them arcing down towards Swerve.

Volt caught on to his surprise, of course, and did something else clever to his spike, plus the clever fingertips sliding into seams around his hips and triggering every node inside in a staticky burst of electrical pleasure. Definitely a distraction. Very distracting.

“Hey, h-hey, that- that still feels fragging amazing, but you’re- w-what is that,” Swerve managed, then _groaned,_ legs twitching as they deepthroated (or, shallow-throated, really) his spike again. “That’s, uh- _ohfrag,_ l-look, just- just don’t- n-nothing I’ll n-need a _medic_ for, y-yeah? I’ll- _frag-“_

The noise Volt made was probably supposed to be reassuring. It certainly had that effect, in a way, because it involved way more _static_ than speech normally did. Riiight up somewhere near the head of Swerve’s spike.

Which meant that Swerve, already hopelessly worked up, came _hard_. Right down Volt’s throat.

And found out what those manipulators were for.

Volt kept going, bobbing their helm and sucking and doing something thoroughly evil with their glossa, dragging Swerve’s overload out as long as they could. Whatever was on their back arced in lower, and they pressed tight to Swerve, arms sliding up around him, their whole frame crackling momentarily with suspiciously colored static. The color of the discharged energy of an overload. Snapping around all those conductive little mechanisms in their back, lower and lower, until it vanished as if sucked into their core.

It took a minute or two for Swerve to find himself again. It wasn’t that he _hadn’t_ overloaded lately, he just… hadn’t overloaded that _well._ It was all alone, with his servos and a toy or two, not… oh, Primus, even if it wasn’t someone who actually wanted _him_ , there was something so, so nice about having a partner. Especially a partner who put up with, actually seemed to _like,_ his babbling. And whose mouth was that _conductive,_ dear frag, that was good. Seriously, why didn’t they make toys like that? He’d take a toy with gold lining any day over any other toy he’d had, and, Primus, would it work on something for his _valve,_ too? Oh, frag him sideways, Volt had that gold on- ohh, maybe he could get them to put up with his babbling for long enough to-

And that was about when he realized he’d been saying all of that out loud.

Welp. This was how he died. Of embarrassment.

Oh, Volt didn’t look mad. Volt looked _hungry_.

Oh, frag, Volt was licking his valve panel now.

Okay! Embrace it! His dirty talk sucked and Volt was apparently fine with that!

Swerve pushed himself up on his elbows, regained control of his runaway vocalizer, and shifted a little along with Volt as they moved how they were gripping him. “Yeah, yeah, sure, you- you want a-a taste of- of the Manager’s Special? Y-you’re on the s-secret menu n- _hah-“_

He lost control of his vocalizer again for a moment when electricity-laced fangs nipped at his valve cover, and opened it without even thinking. Fully aware of the little gush of trapped lubricants that resulted. “C-comes in a special g-glass! J-just, uh, be c-careful with the rim on this o- _ooh_.”

Volt warbled a soft affirmative that tingled pleasantly over Swerve’s exposed valve lips, then slowly, _slowly,_ drew their glossa over his valve. Soft and gentle, the sensory fire of the gold stripe on their glossa notably dimmed from earlier. Considerate.

Paused. Licked their lips. _Crooned_ at him.

And lifted the servo that had been cupped under his valve when he’d opened his panels. So they could lap up the fluids that had dripped into their palm.

_Oh,_ frag, okay. Oh, Swerve was starting to feel… rather like the pitcher of snacks he evidently was at the moment, watching them lick their fingers clean. “Oh, you… you really wanted to- guess this makes me a _snack,”_ he declared, then whined impatiently and squirmed as Volt’s servo continued to get more attention than his aching valve. “And I-I hate to complain, I do, really, this is amazing, b-but- mech, you- you can’t just- c’mon, _please,_ if you don’t get that glossa back on my valve I’m gonna _die,_ ” he whined, _definitely_ whined, not charming in the slightest, but Volt aimed a hungry look up at him and pressed in close again. “Ohh, frag, yeah, there we go, _please,_ c’mon you can’t just-“

Volt licked up his valve again, and Swerve _whimpered_. Gasped out something rather incoherent as that beautiful glossa curled around his node. When he got his vocalizer back, what came out was _praise._ Babbling, semi-coherent, entirely sparkfelt. Some people liked that, someone could have liked it from him- except that he had the _worst_ possible word choice. Nobody liked it when you described whatever they were doing to your equipment as “superb”. “Fantastic” was a little better. “Stupendous” wasn’t.

But Volt, still, didn’t seem to mind. Not the gasping attempts at praise, the awkward little leg-kicks, the clumsy pawing at their helm with one servo. They actually _let_ him get a proper grip on their helm for support, let him pull their helm in tighter and rock up against their mouth as they-

As they, shamelessly, slurped up as much lubricant as they could get. Drinking him down like he was something _delicious_. Alternating between nipping-sucking-teasing at his valve lips and spreading him around their glossa, gradually working their way deeper. But not deep enough, and not fast enough.

“-so good, that’s really good, frag, but- _more,_ c’mon, I spend a lot of nights alone and I got a lot of toys, you’re not gonna hurt me, get- get that thing in deeper and _really_ spread me open, c’mon, I squirt when I overload really well and that’s what you’re a-after, right?” Swerve wheezed hopefully, squirming a little, and tried not to _squeal_ as Volt obliged. That beautifully conductive glossa slid _deep,_ pushed, and curled, seeking out node clusters like it’d been made for this, the very tip of it finding a spot that he could never quite hit at the right angle with his toys.

And Swerve completely lost his ability to form sentences. Which only made his babbling even more embarrassing, incoherent noises mixed with the occasional word or two of praise, but Volt _really_ didn’t seem to mind.

They’d gotten a bit more vocal, too. Only that was _definitely_ on purpose, every pleased little noise buzzing against Swerve’s valve, lighting the sensors up even further. They hadn’t bothered to retract the apparatus on their back, and the many narrow tips were twitching in blatant anticipation as they worked at Swerve’s valve.

As the bartender’s charge skyrocketed, they brought their servo up to rub over his node, keeping the patches of conductive gold away so as not to overwhelm. Press up further, deeper, curl their glossa _just_ right against a node cluster, and they gave a muffled, satisfied, rather entertained set of clicking noises as Swerve squealed something incoherent and clamped his thighs tighter around their helm. Tight enough that they had to squirm a little, shoulder his legs apart so they could move their helm at all- and chase away his attempt at an apology with a long, lewd _slurp_.

“Oh frag, _oh_ frag, y-you’re really- _oh_ that’s not _fair,”_ Swerve wailed, rocking his hips up against Volt’s mouth as they _drank_ from his valve. That had no _right_ being as hot as it was! Mech had no right drinking like that, _purring_ like that. Like he was something to _savor,_ l-like-

Volt tilted their helm to look up at him, _crooned,_ and stroked the conductive gold on their thumb over his node. Just once.

And Swerve fell apart. Servos clutching at Volt’s helm, legs clamping against their frame (though not too tight, he managed that), babbling a mess of syllables that tumbled over each other into a whimpering cry of bliss as he overloaded.

As Volt, in response, crooned again and drank him down. Drew out his overload right to the edge of overstimulation, lapping up every drop of lubricant they could get.

Then they lifted their helm, paused just long enough to lap up the few stray drops scattered across their servo, and squirmed up to press their whole frame against his.

Swerve’s vision went white as he overloaded. When he got it back, Volt was holding him.

Huh.

“Whvt,” he tried, then again, managing only an even more incoherent noise that time. He meant to ask what they thought they were doing, especially when –an awkward squeak- they lifted him just enough to get him further onto the berth, but he found he’d lost control over his voicebox. For once, it took him a bit of squinting and focus to get himself organized to say anything.

And all he could manage when he did was “dinner and a show, huh?” and a particularly stupid grin.

Holy slag. Volt was _cuddling_ him. Nobody did that. Not for very long, anyway, not once he got his vocalizer going again.

At least that second overload had bought them some time until his voicebox sorted itself out properly again.

Volt, still licking their lips, gave a noise that took a few moments to parse as a laugh. As they curled in close, thoroughly comfortable, and groped around to find his blankets. As they tucked up close to Swerve, enjoying the warmth of his frame, and set about leisurely tucking their collection apparatus back into place.

Swerve’s voice started cooperating much faster than he really would have liked, but there was an odd squeak in it when he started up again. “-really? You’re- you’re really gonna just, what, sit here and cuddle me after you just finished- _ohh,_ frag, normally I don’t let people do sex things in return for drinks, but I might have to make an exception when the sex thing _is_ drinks- what, what would you do if I put some- I will stuff whatever treats you want up anywhere you want if you promise to help me get ‘em back out,” he declared, still a little bit too full of endorphins to be embarrassed about that.

Volt was still not leaving. He didn’t know what to do with that, and a bit of rambling about types of treats he had wound up trailing off as he stared at them. “You, uh. You don’t have to stay. I know I get to be too much pretty quick. It’s- it’s okay, I’m, I’m used to it, that’s fine,” he managed, trying to pretend that it was, in fact, fine. He’d really rather just get that over with quickly, the leaving. Especially with how nice it was starting to feel as they settled in.

Volt buzzed a distinctly negative noise at that, wound their arms around Swerve, and held tight.

And they didn’t leave, even when Swerve kept talking. A few moments more, and they disentangled their arms from him, much to his poorly hidden dismay- but only pulled the blankets up further. Tucked one blanket around the both of them, and pulled another mostly over their helm, folded to cover their audials. Something to muffle the sound, enough to turn his voice down to a much softer level.

But they definitely weren’t leaving. And they weren’t shutting off their audials, or demanding that Swerve turn himself down. Instead, they muffled their own audials slightly, and stayed.

“Holy shit,” Swerve whispered, finally starting to believe it. “Geez. You’re really just- you want _all_ you can get outta me, huh? You- you can have it, whatever you want, all the- the cuddles and slag, just- promise me you’ll make me shut up instead of leaving, Primus, you’re so _warm,_ promise me you aren’t going anywhere for a bit-“

Embarrassing as all slag, his attempts at chatter turning into a quiet plea to just be _held,_ but-

He wrapped his arms around Volt, and they made a noise that he was fairly sure was positive, nuzzling into his chassis. And a tension he hadn’t fully known he was carrying melted away in relief. “Okay! Okay, uh, I’m- I guess I’m not going to stop you if you want to, wow. Okay.”

Volt _stayed_. Got a little fidgety after a bit and started alternating between petting Swerve and playing with the edges of the blankets, but they stayed. And they held him close, occasionally giving some noise or another in response to something he said, as he started to fall asleep.

They waited until he was fully asleep to pull away. And then, only to squirm away a bit, put their back to him instead, and reach into subspace for something to do until their frame sorted the fresh energy into their stores and they could sleep as well.

They wanted to see his face when he woke up and they were still here.

“Manager’s Special”, ha.

Cute.


End file.
